


untrust us

by zigur



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: First Meetings, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Other, non-binary characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 04:19:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5652202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zigur/pseuds/zigur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And when Eru sang their world into being, when Mairon took a shape, became physical, tangible, their first act was to seek the one who one help them excel in what already seemed like a second nature to them. </p><p>Mairon didn’t find them, but Aulë proved a good enough substitute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	untrust us

**Author's Note:**

> the seduction of mairon i guess??? not much of a seduction tbh
> 
> a fic brought to you by sleep deprivation, the hour of 4am, and absolutely nothing else (please forgive me)

Ever since they were thought into existence, no more than an abstract being in a no-world they barely remember, Mairon was filled with a need to create.

It ran hot through them, this desire – instinct – to build, to  _better_ anything and everything they set their eyes on. Their thoughts travelled fast, always observing, analysing all that surrounded them, what was, what could be, what purpose could it serve, the potential laid within it. They took notice of what most overlooked, saw endless possibilities where other saw none, took advantage of when others wouldn't. 

And when Eru sang their world into being, when Mairon took a shape, became physical, _tangible_ , their first act was to seek the one who would help them excel in what already seemed like a second nature to them, what already burned beneath their skin.

_Mairon didn’t find them, but Aulë proved a good enough substitute._

And excel Mairon did, enough to earn themselves the name they were given, enough to earn the praise they received from others, enough for their existence to be cherished by their peers and superiors alike.

Admirable, in skill, power and appearance, for few or none of their kind were as gifted as them in either aspect.

_Pride, they knew, was not an emotion meant for the pure beings of Eru, but Mairon felt it regardless. The swell of pleasure that flowed through them at the songs of praise sang in their honour was one they neither could or wanted to stop._

So it had only been a matter of time.

They had heard the tales, the frightened whispers spread among their peers, of fallen kin, traitors, of a darkness snatching away the curious.

Curumo, so young and ever concerned, had taken upon themselves to approach and warn them of it as well – out of the Maiar, few were as mighty or skillful as Mairon, after all; of course the shadow would come.

But even with the knowledge that it’d come, nothing could have prepared Mairon for it.

 

* * *

 

They were alone when it finally came.

Maiar didn’t sleep, but they did tire, and for that, long periods of time were established where they were free to do as they wished, be it rest, wander around or enjoy the company of their kin.

It was something most indulged in. There was always something to do, others to talk to, and Mairon’s people were nothing if not curious and in constant seek of growth. The blessed lands didn’t lack in erudites willing to teach, and they were always willing to learn.

It was not usual for Mairon to follow.

An empty forge was a luxury they were rarely presented with, and they took full advantage of it whenever possible. Without the ever-watching eyes of Aulë wandering around, and the curious gaze of their peers accompanying their every movement, Mairon was free to do as they wished – alone, they were limited only by their own imagination.

Alone, they were free to release most of the fire locked deep inside of them, to let their fëa teeter on the edge of their fána until their eyes burned bright and their hair burned hot, shifting from its usual dark colour to curls of flame that floated gently around them.

“Much better.” Mairon would whisper to themselves before focusing their attention on their work.

There were no worries about getting caught off guard – the others weren’t bound to return for quite some time, and even so, long ago Mairon had learned to attune their spirit to notice even the smallest change in the environment, anything that would indicate the presence of another being.

There was almost nothing that could get inside the house of Aulë without their knowledge.

And so, they promptly felt when the shadow arrived.

It was not trying to hide.

Nothing about the presence indicated that it was making even the smallest of efforts to keep themselves unnoticed. Mairon would have thought they were flaunting their might, if not for the knowledge that their energy would most certainly be felt by all in the land if fully released.

Its presence was almost suffocating, and the closer it got, the stronger it seemed. By the time it reached the room Mairon was in, the air around them was almost electric, charged with the shadow’s presence.

Dark and grey, heavy with sheer power; Melkor formed a sight mighty enough to inspire admiration and fear in the hearts of even the most sceptical and brave. At first shapeless, the more it approached, the more tangible it became, until finally a physical body stepped out of the fog it had recently been a part of.

Awe was not an emotion Mairon felt very often, but they doubted a being could feel anything else in the presence of Melko. And it was unfair, Mairon thought, how one would hear much of their might, but never of their appearance – otherworldly was the only word they found that could adequately describe the eldest of the Valar.

Everything about Melkor’s appearance seemed royal and sovereign, from the straight bridge of their nose to the highness of their cheekbones and cut of their jaw. Their skin was dark, darker than even Mairon’s own, and their white hair was heavily dreaded and tied away from their face.

The grey of their eyes reminded Mairon briefly of the glint of a well-crafted dagger, and they stared down at them with the same sharpness of one.  

“My liege.” Mairon whispers, bowing their head in respect and containing their fëa, lest it’s perceived as an offense.

“You know of me.” The voice that echoes through the room is soft, but carries enough power for Mairon to wonder if it could be heard beyond the confines of the forge, if the one who speaks it so wished.

“I do.” Mairon answers, head still bowed.

“I see you shackle your spirit in the deep confines of your form once in the presence of another. Why?” Melkor asks, cupping Mairon’s jaw and lifting their head until their gaze meet.

“Most of my kin is uncomfortable with unnecessary displays of power, my liege. I fear the Valar would frown upon it as well, or take offense.” The hand on their jaw is rough but gentle, and Mairon suppresses a series of shivers as it strokes their cheek with something akin tenderness.

“The Valar are foolish to ask that you hide your true nature. Beauty and power like yours, young one, are rare. That you are not heralded as a golden jewel of this land is a sin.” The praise runs hot through Mairon’s entire being, and the intensity of Melkor’s gaze has them preening in delight. “What do they call you?”

“Mairon, my liege.”

“A worthy name.” Melkor sighs, brushing a lock of Mairon’s hair behind their ear, careful of the many golden earrings that adorn it. “Release your spirit, Mairon. No one shall disturb us for now – with me, you are free to be as you are.” Mairon’s name rolls off Melkor’s tongue beautifully, and they almost purr in response, before catching themselves and doing as they’re told.

Once again, they release their fëa, this time going even further, until their fána feels like it might crumble under its intensity. Once again, Mairon’s hair turns to flames as the golden of their eyes brightens up enough to light up a dark room. 

At this, Melkor seems enchanted, delight spreading across their features as they brush the licks of flame of Mairon’s hair with gentleness. Mairon’s fires burn hot enough for even other Maiar to feel the unpleasant tingle of a burn upon touch, but Melkor appears unaffected.

“Admirable indeed.” They whisper, looking down into Mairon’s eyes, a shadow of a smile gracing their lips. “Tell me, then. You had been expecting my visit, yet you were not seeking to avoid me as other of your kind might have done. Why?”

“Why would I wish to avoid someone who has done me no harm?” Once again full lips twitch in amusement, and Mairon feels all too thrilled for being the cause of it.

“You wish to see what I have to offer.” It’s a statement, and the mirth in their tone is evident now – it’s clear that Mairon is proving more entertaining than they expected, surpassing whatever expectations they had, and the thought of impressing Melkor is much more gratifying to Mairon than it should be.

“I consider it unwise to turn down propositions without being aware of possible gains and losses, my liege.”

“Indeed, very sensible of you, young one.” Melkor says, leaning down so they’re barely inches apart, their cold breath mixing with Mairon’s hot one, and their hand once again on the curve of Mairon’s jaw. “I do in fact have a proposal for you."

"Tell me, Mairon. How would you like to help me create a better world from the ashes of what stands?”

**Author's Note:**

> this is all very uneventful and kinda lame but i needed to get it out of my chest. i'll write cooler and better stuff in the future i promise? 
> 
> also i refuse to assign genders to any of the ainur okay why would powerful abstract beings have genders it doesnt make sense


End file.
